


the fruits of his labor

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Belly Kink, Coming Untouched, Eggpreg, Kink Exploration, M/M, Masturbation, Oviposition, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: In the aftermath of experimenting with a strange new sex toy, Hux explores the extent of his changed body with a newfound enthusiasm.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171





	the fruits of his labor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with a quick oviposition one-shot! Hope you guys like it.

Hux would not usually engage in many afternoon indulgences past a cup of rare, seldom used tea. Blue honeycup, harvested from a plant native to Chandrila. An herbal blend, prized for its delicate flavor and slightly fruity, mostly floral bouquet, rather than its caffeine content. He’d read once that the planet’s natives used it holistically to ease abdominal pain and aid digestion, and though Hux usually didn’t hold much stock in folk medicine, the light warmth spreading through his body as he sips from the freshly-brewed cup is nothing if not soothing when it comes to his particular _predicament_. 

Pulling the cup away from his lips, he looks down, a grin creeping across his face as he takes himself in, this fresh, changed state, evidence of the previous night’s _entertainment_. He presses a hand to the new shape of his belly, distended and firm, filling out the sleek, black silk of his robe. 

_...Perhaps he and Ren had overdone it, just a tad_ , Hux thinks as he strokes the fabric of his robe against the taut curve of his belly, but then again whenever Ren came into the bedroom, enthusiastically brandishing some novel new sex toy that tickled Hux’s kinks in _exactly_ that right way, he usually found it hard to resist. Ultimately, he admired Ren’s creativity and dedication to pleasing Hux’s taste for the obscene and unusual, even if it left him with a cycle relieved of his usual duties, in order to deal with the “aftermath.”

Ambling, his stance widened thanks to the foreign weight on his pelvis, Hux makes his way over to his couch, sliding onto the ice-blue cushions with only mild exertion. Nevertheless, the motion ripples through his belly, jiggling the jellied brood inside stretching him to the limit. He takes a couple of moments to breathe, let the vibrations pass, before he carefully set the teacup atop his middle and reclines back with a pleased sigh. 

The image he presents now would no doubt make an irresistible bit of proof for anyone trying to blackmail him or besmirch his good name. The great Grand Marshal Hux of the First Order, rendered inert and exhausted from a fanciful alien sex toy. Indeed, years ago he would’ve never even considered exploring such debauched fantasies, neither alone nor with a partner. Yet Ren had changed him, much as he had been changed by Hux, though while Ren had grown more disciplined Hux had only grown more experimental, more eager to explore his more base and strange sexual appetites as long as Ren was there to guide him through it. Oil and water, the two of them, and yet time had allowed them to mix, disperse, infect one another. 

_Impregnate, even_ , Hux thinks with a smirk as he rests his other hand on the lower curve of his belly. Even through the thickness of his abdomen, through layers of fat and skin and muscle he can just feel a hint of the eggs that still remain inside of him. He had only agreed to this after a guarantee from Kylo that the toy was safe, well-tested, and came highly recommended from fellow “xeno-enthusiasts” such as himself. And while Hux didn’t exactly consider himself a member of such a sordid group, he appreciated the clever engineering that went into such a product. The toy, given the lurid, somewhat disgusting onomatopoeic name of “Sqlurch,” was not simply a tool limited to the bed. Rather, it gave the host the full experience, the synthetic eggs it expelled only dissolving after a cycle of exposure to the body’s hostile insides. Hux’s eyes flick to the chronometer. He’s on hour sixteen out of twenty-four already, with plenty of time left to relax and enjoy his altered body--even before Ren returned home to enjoy it for him. 

Hux’s fingers trace, meandering, beneath his navel. _But how?_ A tingle of arousal brews in the pit of his stomach, beneath the clutch of the eggs, yet his overfilled belly blocks easy access to his cock, his ass, any nexus of pleasure he could exploit in Ren’s absence. 

Hux thinks further. Briefly, he considers riding the arm of his couch, humping it like some sex-crazed animal, but propriety, even without the pressure of prying eyes, holds him back. He continues the absent stroking and tapping his belly and then, on a whim, gives it a light prod.

The effect is immediate, almost like lightning. The motion radiates through the clutch, far stronger than it had when he had been moving about normally, sending a spike of pleasure through Hux’s loins so profound it made him gasp, and spill his tea. Droplets of blue liquid spot his robes but are instantly forgotten as Hux sets aside the cup and instead places both hands on the sides of his belly. Hux’s heart races, his eyes wide, smile taking on a more desperate edge. 

Who would believe that the toy’s pleasure didn’t end after the eggs were laid?

Again, Hux presses inwards, touch still light, but this time he uses both hands. He hisses as he _feels_ the eggs compress inside of him, rubbing against one another as well as his sensitive, stretched insides. He grows more bold with the massage, pressing his fingertips down against one patch of his belly and then the other, rubbing in circles. He goads the clutch to press in and down, sparking pleasure from his prostate. 

A sudden wet sensation has him throwing his head back and spreading his legs. Beneath his belly, a pool of thin, indigo slime trickles from his previously abused hole, staining a patch in the ice-blue fabric of the couch several shades dark. Hux digs his teeth in his lower lip, humping his ass down against the friction of now damp cushion, unable to see much of what’s going on but feeling it, acutely. Whether the fluid is excess from some of the toy’s lube or the first sign of the eggs dissolving, Hux cannot say, but he can’t deny how _good_ it feels, to be coaxing his brood to come back out of him. 

He doesn’t even need to touch his cock. Trapped between his heaving belly and the humid part of his thighs, it goes off on his own with a couple more moments of frantic massaging, painting the underside of Hux’s gravid form with a trail of sticky, translucent white. Gasping, Hux sags back against the couch, staring at the stark ceiling, feeling boneless, light but inescapable _heavy_ at the same time. Still full, still ripe, like a fruit hanging on by a thread of a stem, rich in juices and desperately ready to be plucked. 

And at that moment, sitting debauched on the couch with the lewdest of his thoughts freely flowing outwards, Hux hears the doors to his quarters swish open. He doesn’t even have to look to know who has finally made his return. 

Hux lets out a low giggle, lazily spreading his legs even wider. His toes curl, cock livening again. 

“Oh, Ren…” he moans to the stunned silence that greets him, “I’ve made such a wondrous discovery.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments! Let me know if you liked this. 
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


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